Chiaroscuro
by Silverr
Summary: Kanon and Shion encounter Saga's dark half. ** An alternate history drawn from canon. Rated for implied twincest and attempted seduction of the old by the young. First posted March - May 2005.
1. Welcome

Disclaimer: St. Seiya is copyright Kurumada Masami and Toei. No infringement or disrespect of the intellectual property rights held by the owners of existing copyrights in Saint Seiya or its derivative works is intended by this amateur work of fan fiction.

_Author's Note: This story is dedicated to the Japanese artist Tohru Mizunomori, whose gorgeous fan art of Shion and Saga was a direct inspiration._

_A special thank you to Sagakure for giving me extensive Saga & Kanon information in early February 2005 when we discussed this fic. I have made minor deviations from canon for the sale of drama and characterization._

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Chiaroscuro  
_by Silverr_

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* * *

~ 1 ~

**Welcome**

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He'd never been able to recall very much about the first time they'd met the old man, or at least nothing that seemed important - such as whether Other had been present or not.

He had what _felt _like memories: Kissing the Pontifex's ring. Delicate sunlight and birdsong, suggesting an arrival near dawn. A cool breeze playfully teasing strands of the old man's ridiculously long, pale hair, and the odd spots on his forehead, which at first glimpse were startling because they looked like an extra set of eyes. The _sotto voce_ murmur of adults discussing the death of the Gemini Master. And threaded through everything, the waxy-sweet smell of gardenias. It didn't seem likely that the scent had come from the old man, his bony hand poking like a scrawny turtle head from the blue velvet sleeve, so perhaps they really had been carrying flowers. Or had he borrowed that from their legend? the legend that said that he had entered Sanctuary clutching flowers from the Gemini Master's grave? Flowers that were carried for weeks, the story would go, until the petals dried and fell off one by one ... He wasn't sure. Perhaps he had invented it all? Everything except the image - so clear it _had_ to be a real memory - of the old man squatting down, childlike despite his old age, and addressing him in a conspiratorial whisper. "Welcome, Saga. I see your other is being shy today."

This had panicked him until he realized that his brother was meant. He nodded.

"What's his name?"

Should he tell the truth? Or - no, better to be safe, and give the names their father had tried to force them to use.

But as if reading his mind, the Pontifex said, "No, his _real_ name."

The surprise was so complete, like being struck by lightening, a million kilohertz jolt, that Saga was thrown out of balance and revealed one of the oldest secrets. "Our name is Saga," he'd whispered back, immediately bracing for the blow; but instead of pain, he was unexpectedly swept away in the unrivaled joy of seeing approval in the old man's fierce red eyes.

_~ to be continued ~_

Themes: #3, Jolt; #11 Gardenia; #16, invincible, unrivaled; #17, kilohertz; #19, red

Concept: 28 May 2004  
First post: 25 March 2005  
(54) 24 Mar 2009


	2. Birth

Disclaimer: St. Seiya is copyright Kurumada Masami and Toei. No infringement or disrespect of the intellectual property rights held by the owners of existing copyrights in Saint Seiya or its derivative works is intended by this amateur work of fan fiction.

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Chiaroscuro  
_by Silverr_

_._

* * *

~ 2 ~

Birth

Perhaps there was something in their first moments that presaged all that was to come.

The midwife was unconcerned when the baby's feet emerged before the head: she knew what needed to be done in such cases to ensure that both mother and baby survived. The young mother - who had rejected the glare of the newly-built hospital and its impersonal male doctors in favor of the ways of her great-grandmother - was squatting over a pile of clean rags at the foot of the bed, gripping the bed frame.

The midwife watched carefully as skinny red legs and then narrow hips inched out, coated with blood and mucus. "A son," she said softly. "You're almost done, but there will be pain as the head passes."

The young woman nodded, her neck turning purple with effort as she bore down. With a grunt, her whole body shaking from the effort, the mother pushed again, and the midwife frowned as a third foot appeared. Twins? So that was the problem. She took a pin and quickly made a long, deep scratch on the shadow's heel, to distinguish it from the real child; it would be discarded, if she had anything to do with it. She was skilled in whisking away horrors, thwarting The Evil One's attempts to slip into the world behind the guise of tiny innocence.

"Stop," she said to the mother, rubbing the sweat-slick back. "I must check the birth cord." She probed gently. As she suspected - the umbilical of the shadow was looped around the first-born's neck. Trying to strangle him before they were even born! She hooked a finger around the ropy tissue and pulled sharply down to ease the pressure. She had no care if this injured the shadow - after all, if its blood eased the true child's way, it would be no less than Divine Justice.

"Push! Now!" she commanded, and the mother screamed as the two bodies slid out with a gush of blood and fluid.

The midwife was careful to set the ensouled child on the clean blankets to her right. She put the shadow in the pile of soiled rags to her left, quickly covering the silent form to hide it from the mother's sight. "The remainder afterbirth may be expelled in two pieces," she said smoothly as she quickly tied the first-born's cord with thread. After the exhausted mother crawled onto the bed, the midwife packed clean rags between her legs to absorb the final bleeding, then handed her the firstborn.

"What's this?" the young woman asked, touching a purple band of bruise forming on the infant's neck.

"A mark from the cord. It will fade. He's a fine son," the midwife said, hoping that the shadow would stay silent until she could carry it from the room. "Your milk will be coming down. Put him to your breast."

"He has no hair," the mother said, stroking the red-faced infant's forehead.

"It will come," the midwife said, quickly gathering up the rags with their hidden burden.

She was almost at the door when the mother said, "I want the other one too."

The midwife froze.

"When I felt two moving in my womb," the young woman said quietly, "I knew that God had sent me two babies to replace those taken from me in the past."

Biting back the comment that not all gifts came from God, the midwife's thoughts flew. Should she deny that there had been two? No, best to say that the second had been stillborn - as the silent shadow would soon be, smothered in the bundle of rags, its damned life bleeding out through the pulsing cord. Before she could speak, though, there was a rap at the bedroom door and the husband asked, sounding puzzled, "It is twins?"

The wife replied instantly, "Yes, though I have not yet seen the other." She looked at the midwife pointedly.

With a sour face the old woman unwrapped the demon (for after all no human child would have been silent for so long) and angrily shoved it at the mother, who put the unmoving shadow at her other breast as tenderly as she had her firstborn. The midwife was just about to say, "But see, the second has passed on to heaven," when the shadow began to nurse - and only then did the first infant take the other nipple.

"Tie his cord," the mother said. As soon as the midwife had completed she answered, "Yes, twin sons."

The bedroom door opened a crack, and the husband's face appeared. "There is a priest here. He says he will not leave until he has baptized them."

The midwife sniffed. Baptize a demon?

"After they are fed," the mother said.

"I will wait," came an unfamiliar voice from the outer room.

A quarter of an hour later, her sons dozing in milky contentment, the mother pulled the sheet up over her breasts and called out, "You may come in now."

As soon as the stranger appeared in the door the midwife crossed herself, then made the sign against the Evil Eye. Despite the threadbare cassock this was no priest, and certainly no ally. Unnatural eyes the color of new grass burned in a face half dark-skinned and half bone-white, the halves separated by a puckered scar that ran out of sight beneath his collar.

And yet, as if blind to this frightening appearance, the mother handed her firstborn to him without hesitation. The priest took him gently, cupping long dark fingers around the delicate skull as with the other hand he blessed a pitcher of water. He studied the sleeping infant as if listening, poured a few drops of water on his head, then handed him back with a wordless nod. He went through the same ritual with the shadow.

"Are you here to take them from me?" the mother asked sadly.

"Not today," the stranger said with chilling matter-of-factness. "I will only come to take them away for training when they are ready."

The boy's father, who had watched all this with a mix of nervous defensiveness and pride, finally spoke. "Training?"

The priest paused in the bedroom doorway, then said without turning, "Your sons are destined for greatness. Like angels, they will either save the world or attempt to destroy it."

And as the parents and the midwife exchanged stunned looks, the stranger melted into the night.

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The firstborn - the purple band around his neck faded away gradually - they christened Alcander (meaning strength). The second - who would forever carry the midwife's mark on his foot - went unnamed for a few days until his father jokingly began calling him "Adonis" in reference to the beauty that he shared with his slightly older twin. Happy to have sons that would carry on the name and help with the farming and shepherding, for a while the parents forgot the strange priest's visit.

And then their hair came in, bluer than cornflowers.

Such a strangeness would have meant death for both, but it seemed that the strange priest that had attended their birth had convinced the village pastor before he left that the boys' strangeness marked them as angelic, not demonic. "Blue is the color of the sky, where our Heavenly Father resides," the pastor recited often, "if they were of Satan their eyes would be as red as coals."

It still difficult, though, because the twins were different than other children in other ways. They yawned at the same time, woke at the same time, became ill and and ate and laughed at the same time. Both displayed identical cuts and bruises whenever either one got hurt. Long after they were old enough to talk they seemed to communicate without words - though it was impossible to say if this was because the ever-silent Adonis was feeble-minded or because Alcander tended to speak for the both of them, from the first never saying "I" but always "we" - _We want it. We didn't do it. We aren't sleepy._

"It's not natural," their father said often to their mother. Of course he tried to love both children equally, but no matter how he tried he could not. "It's as if they only have one soul and one mind between them." he would say, not adding that in his opinion, Alcander was the possessor of both. He dreaded those days when the older boy had a spell of the falling sickness, because then only Adonis accompanied him out onto the hillside (sitting, mindlessly staring into the burning blue sky, crying for his twin). He was sick with guilt the day that Adonis almost lost a hand after hurling himself on a mastiff that had cornered Alcander for thinking that it would have been better had the dog bitten through the younger boy's throat instead.

When the twins were three his wife died mid-way through her fifth pregnancy. After she was gone the boys seemed to become even closer. They sat together for hours, sometimes pantomiming eerie, silent laughter, as if at a joke only they had heard. What had seemed at first a sign of their special nature, that they were indeed touched by the divine and perhaps meant for great things, was gradually distorted by their father's grief and loneliness into a defect that shut him out.

And then, in their childlike innocence, they revealed an ability that gave him an idea on how he could break in.

He had been chopping firewood one day in late summer when the axehead shattered. This was a catastrophe - with his wife gone and the two four-year-olds still too young to do much useful work, it was all he could do to keep the three of them fed and clothed. A new ax would take two week's worth of earnings.

He sat on the ground, the rusty, shattered pieces in his hands, and began to laugh hysterically. "So what will it be, boys?" he asked, "Death by starvation now, or death by freezing this winter?"

"What's wrong, poppa?" Alcander asked as he came near, the silent and ever-present Adonis at his elbow.

The father held out the pieces of the ax.

Alcander looked at the pieces, then asked, "We need a new one?"

"Yes," he said, his voice shrill. "A new ax, a new wife, a new life …"

Alcander took the pieces of the axehead, squatted down, and fitted them together carefully like a puzzle. Then looked at Adonis who held his small, dirt-streaked hands over them. The pieces glowed briefly and disappeared. Alcander nodded and the pieces returned, seamlessly joined together.

"What did you do?" the father asked, grabbing the axehead. It was now blue-black, twice as heavy as the old one, with edges so sharp that blood welled instantly in his palm and on his fingers.

"We got a new one," Alcander said simply.

"Got? How?"

Alcander shrugged. "We don't know. We traded with a place that had one. Should we send it back?" He looked at Adonis, who held his hands out again. Another glow, and the axehead was gone.

"Where did it go?" the father's eyes bulged.

"We sent it away," Alcander said.

Over the next few weeks Alcander "found" a second axehead, a hoe, some lengths of chain, several dozen nails, silver versions of some copper coins, and a length of pipe for repairing the axle of the wheelbarrow.

It was the pipe that led to the idea. "It's a special project," the father said. "We need to build a box in the root cellar to keep the food safe from robbers." The boys nodded solemnly, and at their father's direction Alcander produced length after length of thick metal bars, day by day building the cage, never questioning why a few dozen bushels of apples and onions would need such a huge lock.

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"Go inside and try it out," he urged.

Alcander frowned. "But why?"

"Because," the father's heart was pounding at a horse's-gallop, "if you can't get out, then robbers can't get in."

This explanation apparently satisfied Alcander, who walked into the cage. He watched calmly as his father quickly tripped the lock and moved buckets of bread and water next to the bars.

"Poppa, what are you doing?" Alcander asked, reaching for his twin's hand though the bars. "Why have you locked the cage?"

"It's the only way," his father mumbled. "You need to see that you can survive without him." He hadn't wanted to do it this way; he would have rather locked Adonis away and spent the time with Alcander, but the half-wit was the one who sent things away, and he might dissolve the cage. He pulled the unresisting boy away from his brother, slung him over his shoulder, and started up the stairs.

"Poppa," Alcander said, the beginning of tears in his voice, "Where are you going? Poppa! Don't leave!"

Above ground, he slammed and locked the cellar door against Alcander's now nearly-hysterical begging, then wheeled an ancient cycle from a dilapidated lean-to. The panniers held a bedroll, the last of the bread and cheese, and an old shawl of his wife's that he used to tie Adonis's limp form to his chest.

The sounds from the cellar faded as they sped away.

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Near evening Adonis stirred to consciousness. His father dreaded meeting those huge blue eyes, identical to and yet so unlike his brother's; but the child didn't even look at him. All he did was cling to his father's neck and stare back over his shoulder at the road home. Through sunset and moonrise they rode, until they finally the father hid the cycle in some bushes, shouldered the bedroll, and walked into the woods for a half hour until he felt sure that it was far enough.

Far enough for what, he couldn't say.

He set the boy down, started a fire. "See," he said with false cheer, "won't it be fun with just the two of us? Sleeping under the stars, like the wanderers and heroes of olden days."

Adonis, who had been staring at the fire, looked up and said with venom, "You're afraid of us." Adonis' eyes were black in the firelight. "Locking us in. Bringing us here. Do you plan to kill us?"

Incredulous - for it was the first time he had ever heard the shadow speak - the father wondered if the boys had somehow changed places? No, that wasn't possible. He shook his head. "It's for his own good," he said. "Now he can see that he will not die. You are two, not one."

"Liar. We hate you. We don't want a father like you!" Adonis shouted, "We will get out! We will find our way home!"

For a moment the father felt fear. But then he remembered: Adonis was only four. With a rising anger fueled by years of resentment and fear he struck him, then again, and again, and again. The fifth time, his hand met only air.

.

The moon was occluded by clouds, and only a few stars low on the horizon saved the night from complete darkness.

"Castor and Pollux rising," the man in the dark cassock murmured.

He took care to make plenty of noise as he approached the clearing with the corpse, in case they were frightened. He doubted they would be. They had each other.

Would it have been better if he had taken them away from the father before it came to this? He wondered. What had the fool tried to do? Whatever it was had sent out a ripple of raw, undisciplined cosmos, signaling to those who were watching that the twins had finally moved to the next level of their vast potential.

In the clearing, he summoned a blue flame in his hand - a cheap trick, but it did tend to fascinate the young ones - and said loudly, "He tried to love you, but feared what he could not understand. I do not offer love, but acceptance."

"Who are you?" The voice that came from the underbrush was doubled, two speaking as one.

"I am the Master of Gemini, here to take you away and train you to be warriors of Athena."

The breath of the night paused, and then two small boys, covered in blood but defiant, walked hand in hand toward the blue flame and their destiny.

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Gemini Saga, the first Gold Saint of the new generation, arrived at Sanctuary a few years later. Though the years that followed erased the memory, the brothers had indeed been carrying flowers from the Gemini Master's unmarked grave. Welcomed by Pontifex Shion, the 200-year old Aries Saint who had become Master of Sanctuary, they found in him their third - and best - father. Strict and unafraid of their power, he could also be gentle and patient as the Gemini Master had never been, bending over their beds when they had a fever, smoothing their hair and kissing their foreheads when they were tired or ill, kneeling on the ground with them to play stones, explaining the patterns of the stars that told where the next cosmos would be incarnated.

It was paradise, and so it did not last.

One day, a few weeks before they were to turn eight, they entered his Palace at the top of the hill and saw him in an alcove, standing next to a large willow basket on a stand. He whispered, "Look over here." They came near and saw that the basket was actually a cradle. Inside was a baby with downy lilac hair and two faint dots like thumb prints on its forehead. The Pontifex lifted the infant gently into his shoulder and said, "This is Mu. I am going to train him, because I believe that he will become the next Aries Saint."

The two boys watched, not the baby, but the face of the old man. They knew that look - they had often bathed in its soothing glow - but they realized at that moment that they would no longer have the old man all to themselves. After a few more awkward minutes they nodded and left the Pontifex's Palace, descending the hill in silence. Through the still-empty temples - Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn ...

"I guess we won't be his favorites any more," the boy who had once been called Alcander said at last. His eyes brimmed with hurt. "But who cares?"

"Nope, don't care," the boy who had once been called Adonis said.

Sagittarius, Scorpio, Libra ...

"Hey, you know …"

"What?"

"The dots mean that's his son."

"Maybe."

Virgo, Leo, Cancer ...

As they entered the temple that was their home, his twin said, slinging an arm across his shoulders, "Don't be sad. You still have me."

.

_~ to be continued ~_

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* * *

Themes: #1. look over here, #5. "ano sa" ("hey, you know...."), #9. dash, #20. the road home, #22. cradle, #27. overflow

Concept: 28 May 2004  
First post: 7 May 2005  
(54) 24 Mar 2009


	3. Power

Disclaimer: St. Seiya is copyright Kurumada Masami and Toei. No infringement or disrespect of the intellectual property rights held by the owners of existing copyrights in Saint Seiya or its derivative works is intended by this amateur work of fan fiction.

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Chiaroscuro  
_by Silverr_

_._

* * *

~ 3 ~

Power

"I did not!"

It was a late summer morning, just before dawn. As they had done almost every day for the past seven years, the brothers Gemini Saga met at an isolated spot outside Sanctuary's power flow to watch the night fade as they discussed the previous day and planned the day to come. The topic this morning was Mu, who had attained the Aries Cloth the day before.

"Sure you did," the younger boy said to his twin with a laugh. "Don't you remember? You told me you went into the room where it was sleeping, put it in a sack, tied the sack, pinched it 'til it cried, and then ran away."

"I never _said_ such a thing! I never _did_ such a thing! I would _never_ do that to a baby!" the other boy said hotly, taut with fury.

"_You _wouldn't, but …" His twin looked at him thoughtfully. "Oh."

"Oh _what_?"

"Well it was a few years ago," the younger twin said smoothly. "Maybe I'm mixing you up with Aiolos. Or maybe it was someone else completely."

"Aiolos wouldn't have done that kind of thing either," his brother said firmly. "You're just making this all up."

"Whatever. The old man must be relieved the little pink-haired freak made it - it'd be embarrassing if his own bastard failed after all that special tutoring."

"Stop being so disrespectful."

"You're such a suck-up!" He plucked some stalks of grass to chew. "What does it matter what I say about the dotheads where they can't hear me?"

He actually had great respect for Shion. He had asked him once if it would be possible to create a second Gemini Cloth, so that when the time came he and his brother could fight side by side. Shion had replied sadly, "I understand how much you want to serve Athena in this way, but it's not possible. My people created the Cloths so long ago that only the knowledge of repair remains, not the knowledge of creation." After that he had reconciled himself to the reality that his brother would wear the Cloth when the time came for battle, but recent events were presenting a new possibility. Shion was, after two centuries, in noticeable decline, and he clearly would have to pick a successor soon. As the oldest Gold Saint, Gemini was a likely candidate - and if one was appointed Shion's successor, the Gemini Cloth would be free for the other to wear.

Propped on his side, he studied his brother's profile. "I won't slip and mess up your chances of being the chosen one, if that's what you're worried about. If the old man is crazy enough to pick you, that is."

"Running Sanctuary is how I could best serve Athena." The tone - as it had been so often lately - was smug.

"What bullshit! The Pontifex just sits on his ass and bosses people around. Saints are the ones who _really_ serve Athena." He poked his twin, but when there was no response he rolled onto his back and added, "Fine with me. If you get to be the Pontifex, I get to be the Gemini Saint."

"That's right," came the response in a deep, harsh voice, "so keep in mind that if you ruin _my_ chances, you ruin _your_ chances."

The younger Gemini sat up with a start. "Oh shit," he said softly. "Not you. Not now."

"I'm tired of being cooped up," the other said, stretching luxuriously. "And I'm feeling neglected. You don't want me to feel neglected, do you little brother?"

Shaking his head numbly, he said, "Of course not."

.

An hour later, he shook his brother gently awake and said, "We need to get going. The sun's been up for awhile already."

The other boy sat up and raised a hand to his head, wincing. "What happened?"

"Another blackout," he replied carefully. "You were rolling around on the ground this time."

His twin stood, brushing at his clothes. "Why didn't you help me?"

"I did my best," the other said lifelessly.

"Well, your best isn't very good. I feel like shit."

As they hurried down the hill the younger boy said, "Let's switch places today. You look like you could use some extra rest, and I need to burn off some energy, so I'll go do the training at Sanctuary."

"Burn off energy? Why? What were you doing last night?" the older twin asked suspiciously, absently fingering a rip in his trousers. He glanced at his brother, then stared. "You haven't been causing any more trouble in the town, have you? Like there was when - "

The younger stopped walking and said irritably. "I told the old man there wouldn't be any more trouble. _He_ was satisfied with that answer. Why can't _you_ be?"

Years before, shortly after the infant Mu had arrived, the older Gemini had left Sanctuary for several weeks. While he was gone a new Saint had arrived - the Sagittarius Saint Aiolos. The younger Gemini (who despite the psychic bond with his absent brother felt lonely in the quiet isolation of Sanctuary) had hoped to befriend the archer, but the serious brown-haired boy was occupied day and night with taking care of the baby Aiolia he carried everywhere - and even if he hadn't been, his overly-polite conversation during training and meals was as clear as a fence would have been that he wasn't open to any overtures of friendship from the effusive Gemini. "Come back soon," was the message the younger Gemini sent out to his twin every night before sleep. "Between our distance and that person, I'm suffocating."

When his brother returned they decided to go to Shion and propose a plan that they had discussed often.. Since only one of them could wear the Cloth in battle at a time (and despite being a Saint, at the age of 8 neither wanted the other Saints to see them sitting on the sidelines) the younger Saga would live in the town below Sanctuary, watching and listening and learning about the world and people. The extreme bond between them meant that what one experienced, the other would know as well, thus allowing the power and knowledge of both to increase in parallel.

Shion had listened solemnly to their proposal, and when they were done had surprised them by saying, "Saints have lived outside Sanctuary in the past. I will allow this sharing for now, and we will see how it progresses." More than that, he had agreed to honor their wish not to reveal to the other residents of Sanctuary that there were _two_ Saga of Gemini.

For the past seven years, the system had worked out well. They met every morning out of sight to practice the Gemini attacks and talk about the previous day, and from time to time the younger brother took his brother's place among the other Saints.

Just before the boundary of Sanctuary, the older twin stumbled, then nodded, "Sleep," he agreed, "might be good." As he watched his brother make his way down the path towards the town the younger twin murmured, "Yes, sleep ... both of you."

.

After morning training, an invitation from Shion. Aiolos - who had slowly begun to warm to Gemini once his little brother was old enough to be self-sufficient - nodded to him as they met in front of the Pontifex's temple and ascended the stairs. "Any idea why we're here?"

"Your guess would be as meaningless as mine," came the reply. "We'll find out in a few minutes."

It was about the succession. It had to be.

"Sit," the old man said, indicating a small table set with bread, cheese, fruit, and wine. "Eat." He gave Gemini an extra sharp look - he always knew when the brothers had switched places - then nodded almost imperceptibly before sitting at a place set only with a goblet of water.

"Won't you be joining us in the meal, sir?" Aiolos asked.

"No, I have things to tell you. And my appetites are not as they were when I was young," he said with a slow, small smile.

Once the two young Saints began to eat, Shion cleared his throat and began. "Two hundred years ago at the end of the last Holy War after Hades and his minions were sealed away, I was given the task of preserving the knowledge and heritage of Sanctuary until the need arose for Athena and her Saints to defend the earth again." He took a small sip of water. "Twenty or so years ago, the signs told me that the next time of Holy War was approaching. I began to study and search for the return of the cosmos to human form. You two were the first, and since then many of the others have also incarnated. The last to come will be Athena herself, and the signs are that she will be born soon."

Aiolos and Saga sat stunned, the meal forgotten.

"Before then," Shion continued, "I must chose a successor, someone to oversee the training centers around the world and gather Athena's warriors together so that Her army will be ready when Hades appears again."

"But sir - !" Aiolos started to protest.

Shion raised a hand. So much frailer now than just a few months ago. "My remaining time is brief, and there is much knowledge to be passed on. I have written out several volumes, but more important is what cannot be written … Starting tonight I will begin training both of you as my successor. When the time comes one of you will take my place and serve Athena as Pontifex, while the other will continue to serve Athena as a Gold Saint."

Staring at the tabletop, the younger Gemini felt a surge of jubilation from his twin.

_We have to be the one chosen_, came the thought, _no matter what it takes._

.

"It's still exhausting just feeling you do it," he said to his twin a few months later. "Can't he teach you about the stars from someplace more accessible?"

"No, the city lights are too bright." They were on the hillside again; this time in the late afternoon since the long nights of stargazing meant that the older Gemini went to sleep at sunrise. "Besides, I keep telling you, the climb up Star Hill is symbolic of ascending to a higher plane of being and perception." He added patronizingly, "You'd have to be there to understand it."

"When did the old man add the asshole requirement?" asked his brother with an irritated drawl. "Because you're sure meeting it better than Aiolos."

"I'm getting sick of your attitude." The older twin stood and started walking away.

"And I'm getting sick of the log up your ass," his brother said, jumping after him. "Ever since all this started you're been treating me like - an annoyance. Like I'm something you stepped in. An embarrassment." He grabbed his brother's arm. "As if I'm holding you back."

"Maybe I'm growing beyond you," Saga said, shaking free with a snap.

His brother, stunned, said, "Why are you acting this way? I want to go back to the way it used to be, just us, in our own world."

"Two halves of one person? I'm beyond that." His face became ugly for a moment as he added spitefully, "In fact, I've been thinking that it's time you got your _own_ name. Maybe something to remind you that your life belongs to a higher cause, and that you're not free to run wild, drinking and fighting and causing trouble. That you're supposed to be acting a certain way. Acting as if you really were a Saint of Athena. Like I am. You're the one with all the languages - is there a word in any language for that?"

"_Canonicus_," the younger said numbly. "One living under a rule. From the Latin."

"Make that into a name. To help you remember." Saga turned away and started down the path again.

"I feel like I don't know you any more," his brother said.

"Perhaps you never did."

Kanon - for from that moment he took the name as a reminder of his responsibility as his brother's guardian - finally became angry. "Really? And you think you know _yourself_?"

Saga paused. "Of course I do."

"Is that so? So you know about Telthos, then?"

His brother turned, puzzled. "Who?"

"Tell me," Kanon asked, "Don't you wonder about what happens when you black out?"

"No, because it doesn't interfere with my training."

"So it's never happened when you're in Sanctuary?"

"Of course not."

"Liar. I know it has." Kanon folded his arms.

"Why are you asking such pointless questions?"

"Telthos is the name I gave to the personality that comes forward when you have a blackout."

Saga frowned. "Personality? What are you saying?"

"You really aren't aware of him?" At Saga's blank look he stepped closer. "That's clever. If you pretend you don't know about it, you can avoid responsibility for all the things he does when he's in control of your body. The trouble he's caused through the years."

"Trouble?" Saga echoed. "What kind of trouble?"

"All the fighting and whoring that I wind up taking the blame for, for one."

"That's clever," Saga said, echoing Kanon's words. "Invent a way to shift the blame to me."

"You really don't remember?"

"Your crimes sometimes invade my dreams," Saga said. "Your filthy crimes."

"So you call it a dream of what he did to our father? What _you_ did?"

"You LIE!" Saga flew at him. "_You_ killed father. I saw it when I - when I - " He started to tremble.

"He was hitting me, but you called me to you so that I could send away the bars of the cage he had put you in, " Kanon said. "Once I freed you I wanted to run away, but because he had separated us you - Telthos – we – went back to the grove and punished him."

"No, no, no … " Saga put his hands over his ears. "You're just saying this because - because you were angry that he always loved me more!"

"No, it's the truth!" Kanon grabbed Saga's shoulders and shook him. "Go into my mind! See for yourself!"

"I don't want to hear this! I don't want to remember! I don't want to know!"

Kanon gave him another shake. "You _have_ to hear it. You have to know! Telthos has been coming out more often lately. I worry about what'll happen to you if I'm not around to stop him."

Saga glared at him. "No, you – you're making this up. To make me afraid. You've always been envious that I was considered the real one."

"And because I was 'just a shadow' you used that as the excuse to take everything!" Kanon exploded, then said urgently, "Saga, I didn't care, because we've shared everything. But this scares me, because when you're _him_ I'm completely shut out of your thoughts and feelings."

Clutching his head as if to tear out his hair, Saga said, sounding half-mad, "How could I have another person inside me?"

"I think you – _made _him that night," Kanon looked off to the side, out over the peaceful valley, "to keep you company when you were locked in the cage. We couldn't hear each other, and you couldn't stand being alone ... so you broke off a part of yourself and made an Other. Being with him gave you the strength to call me to you." He looked back at his devastated brother, and brushed the hair away from his perfect blue eyes. "Don't worry. He only shows up when he wants something specific. Fortunately he's got a short attention span, so if I distract him for a while, tire him out, he usually falls asleep before anyone gets hurt. And then I get you back." He pulled his brother to him and whispered, "The brighter the sun, the deeper the shadow." Unselfconsciously his lips brushed his brother's hair in the lightest of kisses.

Saga suddenly stiffened and shoved him away. " _'Tire him out'_? What do you mean?"

Kanon stared, unable to speak. He winced as the comprehension flooded his brother's face.

"You're lying," Saga spat out. "There's no proof."

Kanon pulled off his shirt. He pointed to a dark red bite mark circling his nipple.

"Could be anyone's," Saga said with disgust.

"You have a matching one on your shoulder," Kanon said in a low, sorrowful voice. "But the skin's not broken, because I never bite as hard as you do." He turned, displaying more bruises and deep furrows on his shoulders and back.

"You could have done that to yourself," Saga said.

Kanon turned and held out his hands. "Mine are clean. Are yours?"

Saga stared at his own hands, at the dried blood under his fingernails, and shook his head, denying.

"Be still a moment," Kanon said. "See if your body remembers."

Saga closed his eyes, then shuddered and put his hand over his mouth. "Why?" he croaked out.

"It's the quickest way," Kanon said quietly. "I do what needs to be done."

"I don't believe you! Have you even _looked_ for another way?" Saga asked, his voice rising."Or are you just using it as an easy excuse to - to - _defile _me?"

"Be clear," Kanon stepped close and said coldly, "before you condemn me, brother, be very clear on who is being _defiled _here. From the start _Telthos _has always been the initiator. When he's out usually the first thing he wants to do is to screw someone senseless, and if he can't get that he'll settle for creating chaos and pain and terror and death. I tried taking him to a brothel once, to a woman who I thought could satisfy him. If you could have seen what he did to her - " Kanon couldn't finish.

Saga folded his arms. "No. No. It may be my body, but what this - _thing_ - does or wants when I'm unconscious isn't my responsibility. But you - you're making a choice - "

Furious, Kanon shouted back, "Do you think he would want to do any of the things he does if those thoughts and urges weren't somewhere in _you_ to begin with? You said that the crimes invade your dreams. Tell me, do the dreams disgust you?"

With a cry, Saga fled.

.

Three days passed before he returned. Three days in which Kanon went to Sanctuary, continuing to answer to the name of Saga.

Late on the third day Pontifex Shion stopped him outside the refectory. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes sir," Kanon said with a deferential bow. "He just needed a break for a few days."

"He's very lucky to have a brother such as you," Shion said, his wise, feline eyes glinting in the last of the sunset. "A brother to lend him strength when he's troubled."

"Thank you, sir." Kanon was always amazed at how much Shion saw, as if his sight had grown sharper with his advanced years instead of dimming. As he did whenever he was acting as the Gemini Saint, Kanon returned to their temple. This time, however, he found his brother sitting just inside, waiting for him.

"What are you doing? What if someone sees you?"

"They're all at dinner," Saga said. There was an authoritative timbre to his voice that hadn't been there before. "Don't worry. No one saw me. Soon it won't matter anyhow."

"Why? What's going on?" Kanon asked slowly.

"I have," Saga said heartily, slapping his thighs then springing to his feet, "thought about many things the past few days. You revealed many surprising things to me, and it took me a while to accept them, but now I have."

"You have?"

"Yes, and to thank you for opening my eyes I want to give you a gift."

"Oh?" Kanon felt uneasy. This energy was his brother's, but the cosmos was masked and the thoughts opaque. "Tell me - are you drunk?"

"A little," Saga said with a smile. "But come - let's get out of here so that I can take you to it."

As soon as they were outside of Sanctuary's boundaries Saga put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "I want you to be truly surprised." He took out a blindfold. When Kanon had tied it in place Saga said, "Don't take that off till I tell you to."

Kanon nodded, letting his brother guide him. He smelled the sea; then heard the sound of waves, louder and louder as they followed a path down the cliff side. Shortly after the path leveled out Saga said, "Ten steps forward, then stop. But don't take the blindfold off yet. I have to do one more thing to get it ready."

Ten steps forward. The sound of the sea became muffled, and the humid smell of wet stone replaced the fresh salt air. He was in a cave?

Behind him a faint metallic sound. He tore the blindfold off and spun around. Saga had just summoned a row of bars that made a prison cell of the sea cave. "Thank you for telling me about the cage you built for your father," Telthos said with a smile, "since it happened before I was born. It's what gave me the idea."

Kanon dashed to the bars and gripped them. The cave seemed to be shrinking by the second. With a claustrophobic panic he pulled at the bars with all his strength, but they didn't give. _Trapped_.

"You can thank the old man too. This place is one of the dirty little secrets of Sanctuary, that only the special, initiated ones know about. In fact, if you hadn't been with your dear brother, you wouldn't have even seen it. Oh, and your cosmos is useless here, so don't bother trying to blast or teleport out. Scream all you like. Even if anyone heard you they wouldn't be able to find, much less get you out, of that cave. Or should I say _grave._"

"Grave?"

"Do you see the water-marks on the wall? This spot was sacred to Poseidon in ancient times, and it's almost fully submerged at high tide."

"Let me out!" Kanon begged. He tried to ignite his cosmos, but as Telthos has said it was damped, almost extinguished. "Please, you don't want to do this!"

"Of course I do." Telthos said, his eyes glittering with malice. "You're even more of an obstacle to me than your brother. He doesn't need me when he has your strength to draw on. Too bad, because you and I could have made a good team." He added suggestively, "Since you've learned that your proper place is beneath me. The inferior position has always been your rightful place."

Kanon stared at him bleakly.

"Come now, admit how angry it makes you! So unfair, the way you've been bypassed all these years while he got everything. Your mother's love. Your father's love. Shion's love. Aiolos' friendship. The glory of wearing the Gemini Cloth. And soon the power of Sanctuary." He came close to the bars, stroked Kanon's fist with his fingertips. "I know that you must secretly resent him, hate everything that's important to him. Why pretend that you didn't have those feelings? You've always made a show of protecting him, like your feeble attempts to contain me." Telthos patted Kanon's arm. "But what good did it do? All you did was earn his revulsion over the things we did with his body. Face it: Saga didn't want you around before, cutting all of his accomplishments in half. And he has even less reason to want you around now, because you're a reminder that he's not as pure and good and noble and in control as he likes to think he is. You're a constant reminder to him of his own imperfection."

Kanon sagged as in in defeat, but suddenly made a grab for Telthos' hand, still inside the bars. As fast as he was, though, Telthos was faster; snatching his hand away and stepping back with a "Tsk, tsk," sound. "Kanon," he said, shaking his head sadly, "you should know better than that. Without your cosmos, you're - well, you're almost _nothing_, really."

"Let me out," Kanon said, glowering. "I'll do anything you want. I can help you get the power of Sanctuary!"

"And how would you do that?"

Kanon thought for a few seconds, then said what he calculated Telthos would want to hear. "I'll kill Aiolos. I'll kill the old man. I'll - " He hesitated, then said darkly, "I'll even kill Athena."

"Really?" Telthos said with interest, bowing his head as if to listen better. "And how would their deaths help me?"

"Saga has charisma, but Aiolos inspires genuine loyalty and affection," Kanon said earnestly, gripping the bars. "It's clear that the old man will probably pick Aiolos as his successor. If I kill the old man before he can announce his decision, who's to say he didn't pick you?" He had an inspiration. "Frame Aiolos for the murder, say he was enraged at not being chosen. Two birds with one stone. No one will take the side of a murderer."

"And Athena?"

"If the current incarnation of Athena was out of the way," Kanon said, "It might be years before another is born. You would be the one to identify the new Athena and speak in her name until she's of age, so you can do what you like and say it's all in Athena's name."

"So now I hear what is in your deepest heart." It was his brother, not Telthos who spoke now, and who looked at him with contempt. "I was right to imprison you. I will not allow evil such as yours to contaminate Sanctuary."

"Saga," Kanon said with horror, realizing how completely he had been tricked by Telthos. He raged against the bars. "I was just saying all of that to your dark side! I didn't mean it! Don't do this, let me out!"

Saga strode away from the bars, but paused. "Even if I believed you - even if I _wanted_ to let you out, I couldn't. Now that you have been locked into that prison, you can only be freed by divine intervention." He added sternly, "But for what you have just suggested, no man or god will forgive you."

"You would kill your own brother?" Kanon screamed.

"Though it is like tearing out my own heart, yes. For the good of Sanctuary and to protect Athena."

"All you are protecting is that monster inside of you!" Kanon shouted.

Saga staggered, then leaned against the cliff. A moment later Telthos was back. He turned to smile at Kanon. "Tragically for you, your brother's ego has a ways to go before he thinks of himself as a god. Although it's undergone quite an inflation since being chosen as a candidate by the old man. Too bad he has father issues. He doesn't like sharing his daddy with anyone, though; it makes him feel rejected. That why he lets me kill them."

Kanon had a sudden sense of peace. A sudden conviction that all of this - and his part as well - had happened, was happening, according to a celestial plan, far too vast for any mortal to see. "Killing Shion and Athena won't do you any good," he said calmly.

"Why?"

"If it's her time to return, another will be born."

"Ah, true. But have those two learned enough from the old man to find her? You know Saga doesn't feel confident."

"Aiolos will."

"Well, Aiolos will die." Telthos yawned. "As Shion will. Then Saga will take his place, while I - " Telthos grinned, and his eyes flashed red. "Well, without my faithful watchdog, I will be free to play. Although I will miss your tricks, and the way you wagged your tail for me."

Then he turned, and ignoring Kanon's shouts said with a laugh, "You should save your breath, little brother. The water will be coming soon."

.

_~ to be continued ~_

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* * *

Themes: #4. our distance and that person, #8. our own world, #13. excessive chain, #15. perfect blue, #25, fence, #29. the sound of waves  
A note about theme #13: I substituted "extreme bond" for "excessive chain" as I've frequently seen bond translated as "fetter" .. and a fetter is a chain. OK, it's a stretch. My apologies.

Concept: 28 May 2004  
First post: 15 May 2005  
(54) 24 Mar 2009


	4. Seduction

Disclaimer: St. Seiya is copyright Kurumada Masami and Toei. No infringement or disrespect of the intellectual property rights held by the owners of existing copyrights in Saint Seiya or its derivative works is intended by this amateur work of fan fiction.

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Chiaroscuro  
_by Silverr_

_._

* * *

~ 4 ~

Seduction

Released prisoners have different reactions to freedom. Some fall to their knees and kiss the ground (even though it may be same soil they sullenly tramped into endless dust in the prison yard). Some squint into the sunlight, sobbing. Others head straight for a drink, a lay, or a fix. And a few, freed from close scrutiny, immediately begin to deploy plans they made while "inside".

Telthos was of the last type. Smiling as he walked up the path from the seaside, he reflected that with Kanon out of the way he could stay out as long as he liked. That was a good thing, for the plans he now had in mind - thanks to Kanon's pathetic attempt to gain his confidence - could not be accomplished if he only had random hours here and there.

Kanon. What a trusting fool. Convenient though, and compliant. To any request, no matter how unusual. Too bad there was no one else in Sanctuary that could be used to scratch the itch.

Although … it was a tempting thought, to make little Mu cry again.

He was just about to emerge from the canyon that wound through the mountaintop into Sanctuary proper when he felt two familiar cosmos ahead. Quickly cloaking himself, he pressed himself against the rock wall and listened.

"Please," Aiolos' voice was thick with emotion. "Do not ask this of me!"

"I have made my wishes clear," the old man said. "I must know if you agree to what I ask, as I want to announce my decision soon."

Aiolos' mumbled reply was too low to hear.

"Are you _refusing me_, Aiolos?" Shion asked sternly. "I told you what is required. I am still your Pontifex. You should obey me unquestioningly."

"Yes." Aiolos sounded defeated.

"And not a word to anyone else."

Telthos smiled again. Now _that_ was power. A power that soon would be his. He carefully moved close enough to look around the corner.

The Sagittarius Saint, kneeling in front of the old man, was a poster boy of virility: shirtless, clad only in exercise leggings and sandals, a leather headband through his unruly brown hair. "Isn't there anything else I can do, other than that?" he was begging Shion.

Telthos smirked and thought, _Well,_ _you're in the perfect position for it._ It was really too bad that Aiolos was so uptight.

He drew back. So ... could that really be it? Was all the "special training" of the past months a pointless smokescreen? Would Shion's decision really come down to whether or not Aiolos would service him in his last days? Telthos frowned. And why hadn't the old ram offered Saga the same deal? Saga should have been the first choice - he was _much _more beautiful than Aiolos.

A moment later Telthos heard crunching gravel. Holding his breath, he strained to hear: what was happening? He was just about to risk peering around the corner again when a voice came soft at his elbow.

"He's gone."

Telthos was startled, and turned.

Shion stood behind him, his hands up the sleeves of his robe. The wind lifted and swirled his hair, pale green flames around his gaunt face.

_How did he get past me?_ "You knew I was here?"

"Of course." Shion said with a slow nod. "It's good to know who is around you." The statement hung in the air, innocuous until he added, "And who is missing."

Telthos felt a shiver of fear and awe. Already? He knew about Kanon already? This old man … was not what he seemed. Crafty, how he allowed his frail appearance and half-senile behavior to deceive people into underestimating him. They were tricked by the old face, softened by thousands of tiny wrinkles, and missed the steel and fire gathered in the deep-set ruby eyes. Telthos wondered if anyone else could see, as he did, past Shion's disarming facade to the power beneath. He had always wanted the Pontifex's power, but now he decided that he also had to find a way to conquer the old man himself, to have that steel and fire under his command, at his mercy, at least once before he destroyed it. If he got the old man in the palm of his hand just once he could squeeze and squeeze and squeeze until he got everything he desired. Power, knowledge, retribution. The idea sent an surge of near-erotic excitement through his body.

As if reading his thoughts, Shion said, "Come and see me after dinner." He put his hand on Saga's shoulder, then added, "Come late. That way we can talk without being interrupted."

"I would like that." Telthos remembered to act shy.

"I look forward to it," Shion said, then walked away.

Telthos felt a flush spread over Saga's skin. The first time they'd met, the old man had smelled like gardenias.

Now he smelled like death.

.

"Hello?"

Saga knocked tentatively on the heavy door of Shion's study. When there was no answer he pushed the door open and peered inside. A fire hissed and crackled in the hearth - Shion's rooms were stiflingly hot year-round - but Shion was not there.

Saga stepped into the room and sat down to wait.

He supposed that Shion wanted to talk to him about Kanon's disappearance. In retrospect, he supposed that he ought have asked permission before using the Cape Sunion prison, but he felt sure that Shion would agree that threatening to kill Athena was justification for putting Kanon away immediately.

He felt a pinch of guilt for locking up such a mentally unstable wretch, though. Obviously part of Kanon was sick, to have made up such perverse lies - but Saga knew that he had to set his instinctive compassion aside because the other part of Kanon, the part that was a murderous traitor, had to be dealt with first - and without mercy. Saga only wished that he had been able to help his brother sooner, before be became so ill.

The warm room and hypnotic sounds from the fire were making him drowsy. Dealing with Kanon the last few days had exhausted him emotionally and physically. He would close his eyes just for a few minutes … surely Shion would understand …

A few minutes later Telthos' head snapped up and he looked around. "Here already?" he murmured, then stood and stretched. His eyes swept around the room, stopping at the dark blue robes visible through the partly-open door of an old mirrored wardrobe. He walked over, opened the wardrobe door, and lifted a sleeve to rub his face, catlike, against the fabric. "If only I could make you mine tonight," he whispered. "But soon, soon."

No trace yet of the old man's cosmo. He might as well take advantage of the opportunity to explore. If his plan to barter his way into the Pontifex's office using Saga's body didn't work, there was always basic extortion. He turned to the desk. Centered on the blotter was a stack of legal papers concerning the guardianship, adoption, transportation, and care of a female orphan. The new Athena? From the dates on the papers she should have arrived in Sanctuary a day or two before. Telthos bit the side of his thumb thoughtfully. Curious that the old man hadn't told Saga about her, or taken him to meet her. Well, that would probably happen soon.

The desk's thin middle drawer held only a few old fountain pens and - unexpectedly - a candy bar. Telthos tore it open and ate while he went through the rest of the desk. The top right hand drawer held stationery, news paper clippings, and some office supplies. Boring and useless. The middle drawer held a half-dozen old-fashioned leather-bound ledgers. He flipped through them as he licked the last of the chocolate from his fingers, scanning the totals. He whistled silently. He would put this money to better use, that was for sure. Scholarships and charities and hospital endowments! The large bottom drawer had nothing of interest either - an old radio-cassette player, a dozen battered tapes of ethnic and classical music, a few half-empty bottles of vitamins and calcium supplements ("Wada Calcium CD3 Silver Formula Restores Seniors' Bone Density!").

That's right. Old bones were brittle. They could shatter with a single blow, Telthos thought with a wolfish grin.

He sat back in the worn leather chair and studied the office. "Is that it? How dull." There _had _to be something here he could use: he just wasn't looking hard enough. Next to the wardrobe, a sideboard with a water decanter. On the other walls, tall narrow bookcases of black wood crammed with dusty old books stretched floor to ceiling and framed the windows. Near the fireplace, a small round table next to one of the upholstered chairs held some candles, an incense holder, and an ornately carved wooden box. He got up quickly, crossed the room, and picked up the box. Unlocked, all it held was a folded, much worn #10 envelope, yellow with age, containing a lock of reddish-brown hair. Impossible to tell if it was a man's or a woman's. If only there had been love letters, something to identify whose it was ...

"Are you done, or should I go away so that you can plunder my office some more?" Shion stood in the doorway. His expression was more bemused than stern.

Telthos, startled, remembered his manners just in time. "I'm sorry sir. It was an unacceptable invasion of your privacy." He quickly put the envelope back into the box.

"It was an understandable curiosity," Shion countered mildly. "At your age, I'm sure I was tempted to go through my Master's belongings as well." He moved to his desk, picked up the candy wrapper. "I've always had a taste for sweet things." He tossed the wrapper away. "Sit down."

"Thank you." Telthos moved quickly and sat in the chair in front of Shion's desk.

The Pontifex steepled his fingers and asked with an infuriating half-smile, "Where is your brother?"

_Well, that was to the point._ Telthos gave his version of "Kanon's Betrayal," starting with a truthful retelling of how he'd tricked Saga's brother into the Sunion prison and ending with the exact words that Kanon had used when speaking of killing Athena.

"That must have been very difficult." Shion's expression was unreadable.

"Athena must come first, before every other consideration," Telthos said with passion, and to his surprise for a moment he almost meant it.

Shion nodded. "Yes. That is the core of our existence as Saints." He laid his hands flat on the desk, which was usually the sign that a meeting was over. "Is there anything else on your mind?"

"I just wondered," Telthos shifted in his chair. How was he going to do this? He couldn't very well come out and say, _Do you like boys? Want to try me out?_ Still, nothing was going to happen as long as they had a desk between them. He needed to give the old man an opening. "Would it be alright if I spent some quiet time here with you before I go back to my temple?" He paused and looked down at his hands, which he clasped in his lap for effect. "It's … the first night I don't have my brother's cosmo to keep me company." He managed to squeeze some tears into his eyes before he looked up.

Shion studied him, then acquiesced with a slight incline of his head. "Stay as long as you need to," he said, rising from his chair. "I hope you don't mind if I lie by the fire while you're here? I can never seem to get warm these days." He went to the mirrored wardrobe and removed his blue robe of office (revealing a short tunic) then pulled on a white dressing gown and a long brocade-trimmed robe of heavy brown material.

Telthos, appraising Shion's body in the few seconds between robe changes, decided that, considering his age, he didn't look half-bad from the back: although his skin was a ghostly white, he was broad-shouldered and his legs were surprisingly well-muscled. Seducing him might not be too repulsive.

Shion poured himself a goblet of water, carried it and a book over to the hearth, then held onto the arm of a fireside chair as he began to kneel.

"Do you need help getting down there?" Telthos asked, rushing to his side to offer a hand.

"Thank you." Shion's bony grip was cold, but strong.

_He didn't need my help. _Telthos realized. _It's a bluff, a test. But of what? Is he testing my willingness to touch him? Or does he suspect that Saga's not in control?_

Shion pulled a tapestry pillow down from the chair, arranged his robes, then lay back and began to read.

At a loss for a few moments, Telthos stretched out next to him on his side, staring across Shion's chest into the fire. The only sound was the pop and hiss of the logs, the rustle as Shion turned the pages in his book, and the ticking of an unseen clock. Dull, dull, dull and insanely stuffy. He had to get things going, but he had a hunch that it would be a mistake to make too much of an advance without an opening. He settled fractionally closer, ran his hand though his hair, then laid the hand casually on Shion's waist. The robe smelled faintly of soap and cloves.

He was just beginning to doze off when he noticed that the book noises had stopped. He lifted his head to see Shion watching him.

"Have I done something wrong, Master?" he asked.

"It's time for you to tell me the real reason why you asked to stay this evening."

Tick. Tick. Tick. The hidden clock chimed, at least eleven.

"I was thinking," Telthos said slowly, "that you must be lonely."

Shion laughed, a rich, deep sound. "I am surrounded by my fellow Saints. How could I be lonely?" But he set his book aside and folded his hands, waiting.

"There's more than one kind of loneliness," Telthos said. Unexpectedly, he could feel a wisp of Saga's consciousness twisting in outrage, but shut it out. "I wondered if there was anything I could do for you," he said meaningfully. "To ease your loneliness."

Shion's look was speculative; then the corner of his mouth lifted, very slightly.

Sure that it was now or never, Telthos crawled on top of Shion and took the old face in his hands - soft and smooth - and kissed him once lightly on the lips. The old man accepted the kiss as lifelessly as a statue.

"Are you offering to be my lover, Saga?" Shion asked as Telthos drew away.

"If you would have me." Telthos was puzzled by Shion's reaction. Could he have somehow misinterpreted what he'd seen earlier between Shion and Aiolos? Or was Shion so old that he no longer felt desire?

No, he couldn't have been mistaken. The old man just wasn't used to others taking the initiative, that's all. Telthos stood and, never taking his eyes from Shion's, began to remove his clothes, knowing how well the clinging white undergarments were showing off Saga's body. Tilting his head back and shaking his hair he stroked himself a few times, just enough to start to harden. He looked down at the old man, who was now watching him intently.

"So ... do you like what you see?"

"You are a very impressive young man."

Telthos felt confidence surging through him. _I will do this. I will win._ Trying to take advantage of his burst of energy, he quickly knelt and lay on top of Shion again, threading his fingers into the long pale hair (strands as soft as cobwebs) and kissing Shion's mouth with fervor. When the dry lips opened to him he had a momentary fear that he'd encounter toothlessness inside - but no, Shion's teeth and tongue were there. The only thing that was missing was any response. Shion wasn't kissing him back, or embracing him, or caressing him, or anything.

It was inconceivable that he wasn't yet responding to the beauty of Saga's body. Did he somehow know that Saga wasn't in charge? If so, was he holding back, seeing this seduction as a contest of wills between himself and Saga's hidden personality?

Telthos was determined not to lose, though. No matter what it took. He moved enough to the side so that he could slip his hand between the fastenings of the brown robe over the old man's groin. "Let me give you what you need," he murmured, but the cluster of fleshy parts beneath the dressing gown stayed soft and completely unresponsive to his manipulation.

It seemed he would need to provide more encouragement. Dismayed but determined, he slid down and between the old man's legs, then lifted himself up to free the hem of the dressing gown and the robe.

Shion propped himself up on his elbows to watch.

Fighting back a sudden wave of foreboding - or was that Saga trying to re-emerge again? - Telthos began to push up the fabric. Past the heavily scarred shins, knees, thighs -

And then Shion said, "Let Saga come back." His voice was as hard as flint, and absolutely compelling.

"But I want - " Telthos said, unnerved.

"No, you don't." Shion's eyes blazed, and the air around them was charged with electricity.

Telthos knew in that moment that he had lost, and fled.

Saga blinked, slowly taking in his surroundings, and froze in horror.

"Welcome back," Shion said gently.

Despite the heat of the room Saga shivered. His fingers gripped Shion's robe convulsively. "Master?"

"Did you know, Saga?" Shion asked sadly, stroking Saga's arm. "That the ambition in you would go this far? Willing to suck an old man's withered root in exchange for the blue robe?"

"It wasn't me!" Saga said, wide-eyed. "It had nothing to do with me!"

Shion shook his head. "Saga, it is as your brother told you before you imprisoned him unjustly - you must accept that your dark side's desire for power is _your _desire as well."

"Unjustly? I heard him! He said I should kill you, kill Athena, and take your place!"

"You heard him try to bargain with your dark side for his life."

"Kanon …" Saga said wistfully, then, "Why is this happening to me? I just want to serve Athena!"

Shion said sadly, "I don't know where this duality in you came from. But you must reintegrate this dark side by accepting that its wishes are your own. Once you do that, it will no longer have power over you."

"I can't." Saga shut his eyes and shook his head.

"You must," Shion said. "The more you deny and try to repress this dark side, the stronger it will become. It has already led to the destruction of everyone who hurt or challenged or disappointed you. Your father, the Gemini Master, Kanon … "

"I didn't want to do those things!"

"But you did do them. Saga, don't you see," Shion said gently, "that as long as you deny the existence of your baser desires, you are not fit to be Pontifex?"

Saga said with a sob, "I'm sorry, Master. You must be so disappointed with me."

"For being human? Not at all. It is what you do with this knowledge that will prove your worth."

Saga finally seemed to take in his own state of undress, Shion's bare legs. Red-faced, he pushed himself to his knees and hurriedly pulled Shion's robe down. "You must find me repulsive," he said with self-loathing, putting his hands over his lap.

"On the contrary." Shion lifted Saga's chin and smiled with genuine affection. "Your dark side's offer was very tempting. It's fortunate that I have had two hundred years practice in controlling my desires."

He pulled the Gemini Saint up onto his chest then and, as he had done when Saga was small, stroked his hair until he was done crying.

.

A while later, as Saga shakily dressed, Shion said, "Tell Aiolos that I would like to meet with both of you on Star Hill tomorrow night."

"You've made your choice?"

"Yes," Shion said. "I've made my final choice at last."

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_~ to be continued ~_

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Themes: #2. news; letter, #10. 10; #14. radio-cassette player; #18. "say ahh...."; #21. plunder; #23. candy; #26. if only I could make you mine; #28. Wada Calcium CD3  
A note about theme #18: I used "Sooo..." as an equivalent to the smug, self-confident "Say, ahhh" described in the challenge.

Concept: 28 May 2004  
First post: 29 May 2005  
(54) 24 Mar 2009


	5. Destiny

Disclaimer: St. Seiya is copyright Kurumada Masami and Toei. No infringement or disrespect of the intellectual property rights held by the owners of existing copyrights in Saint Seiya or its derivative works is intended by this amateur work of fan fiction.

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Chiaroscuro  
_by Silverr_

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~ 5 ~

Destiny

Considering that it was his last night of life, some people might have been surprised that Shion was in a good mood.

Those that knew him better, however, knew that Shion had been prepared to die more than 200 years before, during the last Holy War. It was not that he sought death, then or since: it was just that, as a Saint, he accepted that death could come at any time. The fact that he had survived and been given sole responsibility for preserving the legacy of Athena's Saints had always been more of a surprise to him than death would have been.

In two centuries since the last War he had had tasted almost everything that the earth and human existence had to offer. He had felt passion, hatred, apathy, and ecstasy. He had seen princes and tyrants, artists and madmen, superstars and murderers bridge the space between dream and reality. He had learned to sense the heartbeat of Time behind events large and small, and to feel the gossamer threads that connected each moment to the vast cosmic tapestry.

He knew full well that Saga had not passed his message on to Aiolos, and that Saga's dark half would climb Star Hill to kill him.

But he knew also that Aiolos would fulfill his command to guard the infant Athena. _And if even it is I who come near her, if I make to do her harm, you must stop me at all costs,_ he had told him. Aiolos had guessed what this foretold and begged to be allowed to stop Saga before he became Pontifex, but this Shion had forbidden. Aiolos only saw a part: the chain that started with Saga's birth would end with Hades' defeat only if the intervening links were unbroken. So must Sanctuary be ruled by a tortured soul for 13 years; so must Athena grow to womanhood in obscurity; so must half the Houses of Sanctuary be consumed in order for Bronze to outshine Gold; so must Gold be wrapped in darkness.

So must he allow Saga to kill him.

He saw the boy approach, his eyes glinting with barely-disguised hatred. "Do you really mean to chose Aiolos as your successor instead of me?" he demanded.

"Yes, Saga. The evil in you is too strong."

Saga turned away in fury, and Shion felt him gathering his energy for an attack.

"Good night, Dohko; good night, Mu," Shion whispered, and then he waited to receive Gemini's final, deadliest, kiss.

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_~ The End ~_

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Part 5: First post 29 May 2005, Themes: #6. the space between dream and reality; #7. superstar; #12. in a good mood; #24. good night; #30. kiss  
A note about theme #30: A symbolic/metaphorical rather than a literal kiss. However, if you think that's cheating - well, since I wanted to write from Shion's POV, I couldn't very well have him know what happened after his death, but in my mind Saga kissed the corpse anyhow..  
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**Author's notes **

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**How this story came about**  
Tohru Mizunomori's artwork stuns me - her Shion is by far my favorite. He's not feminized as in most fan art, but virile and masculine (swoons). I so wanted to write a story about the "moment" that her picture of Shion and Saga seems to capture. ~ As I began to think out the probable relationship between Saga and Shion, one thing rubbed me wrong - that Shion was said to have been "taken by surprise" by Saga, without any time to react. This seems hardly believable - could _my_ Shion be that clueless? I didn't want to think so, and so posited that Shion knew full well that Saga was going to kill him -and let him, because he knew the whole chain of events that would result. I realize that this explanation may not be canon, but it seems to me plausible.

**Names**  
I liked the idea of having the twins think of themselves as "one" - and having Saga be the name for that oneness until their falling out .. This of course required that they have pre-Saint names, and so I decided on Alcander (strength) and Adonis (beauty), to keep it ambiguous for a while who was who.

Telthos, the name I made up for "dark" Saga (I didn't really go with the anime's "possession by Ares" thing) is a combination of the Greek word _telos_, meaning "end goal," and _stealth_.

**Matter and anti-matter**  
The detail in this story of having the twins be able to bring forth objects seemingly from nowhere was to me a natural extrapolation of their attacks, which deal with other dimensions and black holes. There's also a sort of vague matter/anti-matter aspect, I suppose, with Saga being able to "send away" Kanon's objects.

**Characterization:**  
I have cast the story in an attempt to present a personality and motivation for Kanon that's close to canon. Kanon told Ikki in the Poseidon arc that his plan was to take over Sanctuary and "rule it with his brother" ... In Hades, vol 19 (ch 76?) Saga accuses Kanon of hating him and Athena. - although, as has been pointed out, everything the resurrected Golds say in Hades must be adjusted for the probability that they were acting for benefit of Hades. I've attempted to incorporate both of those statements in this fic.

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(54) 24 Mar 2009


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